


Juniper

by carriecmoney



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birds, Disney fairies au, Gen, M/M, Pixie Hollow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 07:20:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carriecmoney/pseuds/carriecmoney
Summary: He’s the only star-counting talent in Spring – there’s a few in Winter and their chief in the tree, but Tooru has been alone in this observatory on the top of the tallest sycamore since he arrived at Pixie Hollow over a century ago. Sometimes other fairies would flit by his window going to and from their daily activities as he was falling asleep in the morning or waking up at night, but the nocturnal schedule required for his talent meant he was out of commission during the high points of the day. But he was fine with that. Other pixies were loud and annoying.Rare talents like his don’t getlonely.





	

**Author's Note:**

> {A/N: This AU has been burning a hole in my WIP doc for almost a year now, so I churned out an ending and decided to throw it up tonight. It's cute and harmless. Also watch the Tinkerbell movies, they're on Netflix and surprisingly well put-together. [tumblr](http://carriecmoney.tumblr.com) [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/carriecmoney) [some concept art featuring Sirs Not Appearing In This Fic](https://twitter.com/carriecmoney/status/723251422087794688)}

Pixie Hollow is still and quiet after nightfall. It’s a bustling beehive under the sunshine, but when it sets and the stars come out, the fairies and sparrowmen settle in for the night, only the crickets and Tooru still chirping. He’s the only star-counting talent in Spring – there’s a few in Winter and their chief in the tree, but Tooru has been alone in this observatory on the top of the tallest sycamore since he arrived at Pixie Hollow over a century ago. He has a few visitors – Suga brought him his daily dust when he still needed it. Yahaba picks up his finished star charts and drops off new assignments from the chief every week or so. Makki and Shinji help him with his telescope, light talent and tinker working together in a bubbly chatter that fills up Tooru’s observatory pleasantly enough that he doesn’t mind that they interrupt his beauty sleep (although he always whines otherwise). Sometimes other fairies would flit by his window going to and from their daily activities as he was falling asleep in the morning or waking up at night, but the nocturnal schedule required for his talent meant he was out of commission during the high points of the day. But he was fine with that. Other pixies were loud and annoying.

Rare talents like his don’t get  _ lonely. _

He lays back on the roof of his observatory, staring up at his night sky behind the edge of the awning over his work station. Mars was bright tonight. “I bet you’re worse off than I am,” he tells it, plucking at his shirt cuff, the cotton support of his stargazer collar muffling the night noises. “If the humans are right, you’re a cold red rock floating out there with only your moons for company.” He smiles. “At least I could meet other fairies, if I wanted.” He sighs, starfishing out on the cold wood. “I  _ should _ get back to work, but you’re still going to be there in an hour, so what’s the rush?” He closes his eyes, smiling. “It’s so peaceful out tonight. Is it this nice up there?” He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t care  _ what _ the humans say, I hope you have life up there.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Tooru yelps and sits up fast enough that his head spins. A sparrowman – one he’s never met or even seen – is perched on the edge of Tooru’s roof, sitting on a branch poking up past the top, legs swinging. He’s in the earth tones of either an animal or a leaf talent, night hair hedgehog-spiky, dark eyes staring at Tooru with heavy focus. Tooru coughs to cover his pounding heart. “Oh, uh, no one.” He shrugs, petal cape fluttering with the motion. “Mars.”

“Who’s Mars?”

“Not a  _ who _ , a  _ what _ . Mars is a planet.” Tooru frowns. “Don’t you know  _ anything? _ ”

He shakes his head. “Just got here yesterday. Still learning.”

Tooru pushes up from his elbows to his hands, spinning to cross his legs and face the new guy. “I didn’t know we had a new arrival.” The new guy just shrugs, legs still swinging. Tooru blows some cotton out of his mouth. “Well, what’s your name?”

Swing, swing, swing. “Hajime. And who’re you?”

“Tooru.” Tooru drums his fingers on his ankle. “What’s your talent?”

“Animal.” He tilts his head at Tooru. “Are you a planet-talker or something?”

“ _ Star-counter _ . I’m a very rare talent, I’ll have you know.”

“If you say so.” Tooru sneers; Hajime grins, teeth flashing in the dark. Tooru’s sharp night vision means he catches the shadow of the dimple that digs into his left cheek with his smile. “I’m not, but you probably knew that, being so wise upon your treetop.”

Tooru flaps his hand to imitate Hajime’s flapping mouth, baring his teeth. “They sure make y’all feisty these days.” Hajime snickers, flitting over from his perch to sit in front of Tooru, mirroring his posture. Tooru puffs his cheek out. “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

Hajime shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep. Went for a fly. Heard you talking.” He looks around. “Are you really sitting here alone in the dark?”

Tooru bristles. “Ex _ cuse _ you, star-counting talents  _ like _ solitude! We thrive in the darkness, live in a cloak of stars and-”

“That’s mouse manure.” Tooru’s mouth claps shut. “I’m new to this whole-” Hajime waves his hands at everything – “but even I can figure out that everyone needs someone to talk to.” He points up. “And not some light speck thing.”

“ _ Planet _ .”

“Whatever.”

“ _ Not _ whatever!” He scoots back across his roof – grabs Hajime’s ankle when he doesn’t follow and yanks him over to his telescope. “A  _ planet _ is another us but millions of miles away!” he snaps as he brings Mars into focus.

“What’s a mile? And what the dust is  _ this? _ ”

“It’s a telescope. It helps me look at the stars and see more than just ‘light speck things’.” He grabs Hajime’s arm – oh, he must’ve been born with  _ those _ – and pulls him in, his warm side tight against Tooru’s. Tooru grabs his head and puts his eye on the viewfinder. Hajime flails, hand sliding off Tooru’s knee to the wood. “ _ That’s _ Mars.”

Hajime doesn’t say anything, but he also doesn’t move for several minutes. Long enough that Tooru  _ should _ let go of his ears, but rules of proper pixie contact left his brains years ago, overstuffed with starlight. Hajime’s fingers brush over the arm of the telescope, a caress Tooru is familiar with.

“Can you show me another?” he asks after a while. Tooru drops his hands, broken wings fluttering without lifting.

“Sure. But you’ll need to move.” Hajime looks over his shoulder at Tooru, dimple digging, but slides away, heat from his body still wafting over Tooru as he searches for Gemini.

* * *

Tooru didn’t expect to see Hajime again. It had happened before – a pixie would stumble across his observatory, ask him a few questions, they would have a conversation about anything, everything, nothing – and then he never spoke to them again. To most, he was an ignorable constant, like leaves on the forest floor or the phases of the moon. Another fixture.

Hajime hadn’t left until the gray of false dawn crept over the autumn mountains, yawning into Tooru’s shoulder during the explanation of Andromeda. Tooru kicked him out to go get  _ some _ sleep before his next day began – and so Tooru could try and finish what he was supposed to do instead of teach Hajime about the constellations, catching the last of the starlight before the sun washed it out.

He wakes up in the evening, shaking off dreams of warm leaves and rabbit down, and makes breakfast as the sunset rays glance through his curtains. When he climbs up to his observatory roof, twilight in the air, Suga is sitting on the awning over his telescope’s viewfinder and workstation, kicking his heels and chatting with Hajime next to him. Tooru stares for the thirty seconds it takes for them to see him. Suga brightens while Hajime’s face softens in a way the night tries to hide. “Tooru!” Suga flies down, landing a few steps away with his grin on. “Sleeping in?”

“It’s  _ dawn _ for me.” He looks around Suga to Hajime. “What’s he doing here?”

“Being a  _ polite _ pixie and saying hi.” He crosses his arms. “If you ever came down to the tree you’d remember what ‘polite’ means.”

Tooru waves away his concerns. “I’ve never been overly fond of semantics, Suga.” Suga raises an eyebrow, but shakes his head. Hajime stays where he was left, waiting. Tooru watches as he picks at a splinter in his awning, prying it up, scratching down the grooves of the wood-

Suga’s clear laugh breaks Tooru’s reverie. “I think I’ll leave you to your new friend.” Suga’s eyes wrinkle at Tooru’s affronted squeak; he slaps Tooru’s shoulder and flutters over to his empty dust basket, then falls off the edge backwards, waving, the gold streak of his flight a beeline back to the dust tree.

Hajime waits for Tooru to walk across the platform to his spot, watching him the whole way. “You look different without your fuzzy headrest on.”

“First off, it’s called a  _ stargazer collar _ , I told you that last night.” The first cool evening wind blows over the exposed back of his neck. “Second, what are you  _ doing _ here?”

Hajime shrugs, a non-answer, and asks instead, “Why do you never go to the tree?”

Tooru huffs, sneering. “A busy sparrowman such as myself has no time for every cotton-picking festival they throw down there at that trussed-up oak. I’m perfectly fine up here with my peace and quiet.”

Hajime grins at him, lopsided. “Scared, huh?”

He hops off and glides to stand in front of Tooru – he’s two centimeters shorter than Tooru, a centimeter less than average. “I still think you’re full of mouse manure.” He claps Tooru’s elbows, a sparkle in his eye from the three-fourths gibbous moon. “But it’s fun to watch you dance.”

Tooru puffs out his cheeks. “Weirdo.” Hajime throws his head back and laughs – a few empathy chuckles trickle out of Tooru. Hajime lets him go. “I do have work to do, you know.”

“Don’t let me stop you.” Hajime steps to the side so he can pass to his work station, lid of the desk closed against day breezes. “But if you were just gonna talk to Mars more, I thought – well, it might be nice if it could answer back.” Hajime looks away, dark skin flushed – Tooru beams.

“So you’re offering to be my Mars stand-in? You’re certainly red enough.” Hajime kicks his shin hard. Tooru hops away, pouting. “ _ Bad _ , little Mars!”

“And you call  _ me _ weird.” Tooru stalks by, flipping his hair, and crouches on the cushion at his workstation, opening it to the current star chart. Hajime sits behind him, hands loose on his knees as Tooru looks up at the sky – lays back so he can see beyond his awning.

“Venus is lovely tonight,” he whispers. Hajime lies next to him, shoulders touching.

“Show me.”

* * *

Hajime doesn’t stay the whole night this time, leaving before midnight, but he’s waiting on the telescope awning the next sunset. And the next. Tooru stops being surprised by his presence, making a little extra for breakfast and reading up on his star myths scrounged from the mainland so he can have something new to teach Hajime each night. Hajime isn’t much of a talker, but when Tooru’s chatter runs dry, Hajime will tell him about the animals he’s worked with that day, his scratchy voice speaking of pillbugs and minks and bluebirds. He asks Tooru a lot of things – how to make pea soup, how seeds work, what’s the Minister of Spring’s  _ deal _ , if there’s a hedgehog in the sky, but he doesn’t ask about Tooru himself. He’s just. There. Like moonlight on leaves. Tooru gets to watch him grow through summer on the mainland as the taciturn fresh meat finds his spot and fills it, boots gaining dirt and the juniper berries he clasps to his tunic sprouting out finger-twigs from his shoulder to make a bandolier, sticky leaves holding the tools of an animal talent’s trade. They make the breeze when Hajime’s wings flap smell like pungent evergreen, bitter enough to bite on.

It floats up to Tooru on a new moon night, and he smiles and turns into it. “You’re late, little rock.”

Hajime lands next to him, hair ruffling in the wind. “Of course I am. Tomorrow is the first day of autumn on the mainland. Had to pack.” He plops down by Tooru, cross-legged, knee banging Tooru’s. “Tooru, why do you never come to the pixie dust tree?”

Tooru gapes – clears his throat. “Why should I?” he says, sticking his pout in the air. “The tree’s full of toadies and lackeys and silly fairies who only care about-”

“Liar.” Hajime flicks Tooru’s nose before Tooru can slap him away. “The harder you lie the higher that thing goes.” He grabs Tooru by the knees and spins him on the slick seat of his magnolia petal cape so he can look at him head on. “Tell me.”

Tooru searches his wide face, the focus in his gaze, the wrinkle between his thick eyebrows, the hair waving in front of them in the breeze – always blowing this high up. Tooru sighs and looks away, fiddling with the shoulder clasp of his cape. “It’s- it’s easier if I just show you.” He rises to his knees so he can swing the cape away, setting it over the arm of his telescope, turning his back to Hajime in the process.

“Dust and stars.” Tooru hangs his head, running his hands down comforting soft petals. The ripped stubs of Tooru’s wings twitch. “ _ How? _ ”

Tooru swallows, staying turned away so he doesn’t have to see the sympathy leaking out of Hajime. “It was a while ago. And – well, I’m high up here, and exposed, and it’s dark, and. And. It’s like a dinner plate for owls.” He hunches his shoulders. “If I hadn’t bent down to fix my shoe…” A hand curls around his ankle.

“Hey. Look at me.” Tooru cuts his eyes under his arm at a still sitting Hajime, eyes soft. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

The years-old pain bubbles up. “ _ Okay? _ ” He rounds on Hajime. “I can’t  _ fly _ , Hajime! That’s – that’s what makes us  _ fairies _ ! I’m just-”

Hajime grabs his wrist and yanks him down – Tooru wobbles and falls into Hajime’s lap, legs ungraceful in their sprawl as Hajime squeezes the life out of him, head tucked into his neck. “That’s dumb,” he mumbles. “Wings aren’t what makes a fairy.” Tooru stares at the dark spikes of the forest over Hajime’s shoulder, juniper digging into his chest. His heart flutters. He holds Hajime back, just as painful and awkward. “Does it hurt?” Hajime whispers. Tooru shakes his head.

“Not anymore.” He wriggles in Hajime’s hold. “Uh, but, this does, a little.”

Hajime releases him at once, backing up so Tooru can sit back on his own, cold blowing between them. “Sorry.” Tooru shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize.” He blinks at Hajime’s red face – looks back to the trees.

Hajime coughs. “I guess that explains why Suga never gives you any dust.”

Tooru barks a laugh. “Oh, well, he used to, but now he just stops by to bother me.” He slides over to his workstation, skin prickling as he turns his exposed back to Hajime again. He busies himself with getting his papers in order, ears hot. “If you  _ must _ know, I haven’t left here since they brought me back from the healers’,” he tells his sextant. “It’s – it would be…” His hands still. “I just can’t.”

“So you’re punishing yourself for surviving an owl attack by becoming a hermit?” Tooru glares at Hajime over his shoulder, who hasn’t moved except to cross his arms under his scowl. “I knew you were an idiot, but I didn’t think you were  _ stupid _ .”

Tooru gapes. “Ex _ cuse _ me?”

“Why are you so scared? Think they’ll  _ laugh _ at you?” Hajime pounds his fist into his palm. “Not a chance.”

Tooru shakes his head. “You don’t get it.”

“So  _ tell me! _ ”

“I don’t need their pity!” Tooru snaps, fists clenched at his sides and glaring fire at Hajime. “And that’s all they’ll ever give me anymore!” Hajime works his jaw.

“Well I can tell there’s no reasoning with you tonight.” He steps away. “See you in a few nights.” He flies off, juniper in his wake.

Tooru watches him go until he’s just a gold fleck, nails digging into his palms, before turning back to his desk. He has work to do.

* * *

The nights and days that the mainland crew is gone slip by like they always have, sand in the breeze. Tooru does  _ not _ miss Hajime at night, finishing his work with the gusto he used to show before he kept getting so  _ distracted _ . He actually runs out of charts to fill before Yahaba comes to replace them, which causes a raised eyebrow from the messenger fairy that Tooru does not dignify with a notice. Yahaba just sighs and promises to come sooner next time.

The mainland crew is gone for five days, like always. The evening of the fifth day, Tooru wakes up at sunset, makes his breakfast, and takes his tea to his workstation - drops it down the ladder with a yelp. “What is  _ that _ ?” he screams.

Hajime and  _ that _ turn to face him. Hajime sighs, hand on a gray wing. “Oh, stop being such a drama bug. This is Blueberry.” The  _ bird _ bends down to run its beak through Hajime’s hair, and he fucking  _ giggles _ . “Stop that!” It coos in his ear - how is it not  _ eating _ him? Hajime glances over at Tooru, still in his hole and clinging to the ladder for dear life. He mumbles something to the bird, then crosses the platform to sit on the edge of the hole, feet swinging over empty space, not looking away from Tooru’s face. “She’s for you,” he says, and Tooru’s heart clenches.

“Wha- buh- a  _ bird? _ ” His fingers twitch. “What do I need a  _ bird _ for?”

“In case you never noticed, birds have wings. You don’t. Seems an obvious match.” He sits forward, elbows on his knees and right up too close in Tooru’s space, no matter how much he crams to the opposite arc of his hole. “I found her on the mainland,” he explains in a low voice. “A cat ate her mate, and a snake took her eggs. She doesn’t have anyone, either.” He gestures at Tooru with a flick of his fingers. “When I told her about Pixie Hollow, about you, she asked if she could come back. So I brought her here.” Tooru’s face screws up, and Hajime chuckles. “She’s a mockingbird. She won’t try to eat you. He likes seeds and crickets.” He pulls some sunflower seeds out of his bandolier and holds them out for Tooru. “Come on out. Meet her. If you don’t like her, I’m sure we can find a nest for her in Summer somewhere.” 

Tooru stares at the seeds, at the bird, at Hajime. “And you’re  _ sure _ she won’t eat me? Or try to eat me?”

Hajime shakes his head. “Her beak’s not big enough to get around your big head.” Tooru puffs up, and Hajime gets to his feet, shuffling the seeds around to hold out a hand to Tooru. “I’ll be right there with you.” He smiles. “Do you trust me?”

There really is only one answer to that. Tooru takes the hand and lets Hajime help him up the last few rungs, then picks out two of the seeds from Hajime’s stash. “If this doesn’t work I’m never speaking to you again,” he says, nose in the air. Hajime just puts a hand on his lower back and pushes.

The bird - Blueberry - is right where Hajime left it, considering the two fairies with beady black eyes. It’s maybe a fairy and a half tall, just big enough for one to ride without keeping her landbound. Tooru inches closer, heart in his throat, hands shaking. “Shhh,” Hajime says to him, whispering at his shoulder. “It’ll be all right. She’s very friendly.” Together, they walk across the platform, the bird not getting any smaller as they get closer.

“This is a bad idea,” Tooru hisses.

“Nope. Good one.” Blueberry hops the last few inches, and Tooru jumps, but Hajime has a firm hold on his tunic as she leans down and turns her head to look Tooru in the face with one eye. He gulps. “Say hello,” Hajime prompts.

“Ah - hello, giant feather creature thing.” It chirps, and he jumps again. Hajime’s hands snakes around further to hold his waist. He guides Tooru’s hands up with a hand on his wrist - right, seeds. “Ah. Please eat this instead of me.” Hajime groans, but she trills and picks one of them up with the very end of her beak. It’s blunt, for digging and cracking nuts instead of killing and meat-eating. Her tongue is rounded and black as she licks it down, then goes for the other with the same delicate precision. Hajime refills his hands without asking, each seed meeting the same fate until they’re gone. Tooru panics - what happens when the food is  _ gone _ \- but she just sings and preens his hair the way she did Hajime’s, beak and tongue tickling as they trace over his scalp. He laughs, helpless, as she presses the curve of her beak against his cheek. He reaches up to stroke it, down to the feathers of her neck. “So soft,” he mumbles.

“Birds tend to be soft.” Hajime reaches up to scratch her under the chin. “I knew y’all would get along.”

“I wouldn’t say that yet.” She sits down, feathers fluffing out, so she can curl in more around his shoulder, as downy as fresh cotton in his stargazer collar. His arms slide around her neck of their own accord.

“Oh? Do I need to find her a nest in Summer after all?” 

“No!” He laces his fingers together, feeling her rapid heart against his. “She can find a nice tree here in Spring just as well, thank you very much.” Hajime chuckles. His arm is still wrapped around Tooru’s waist, warm feathers against his front and juniper against his back. He breathes it in, then looks over his shoulder at Hajime, face a bare hand away. “Thank you,” he repeats. “Very much.” 

Hajime smiles in a way the night tries to hide. “Don’t thank me until I can find a saddle for her.” His arm slides away, leaving Tooru to clutch his new partner. “Should I go look for one now?”

Tooru hums. “Later.” He smiles at bird and sparrowman. “I’m sure you’re tired after your mainland adventure,” he says. “Why don’t you tell me about them?” He leads the way to his workstation, bird hopping after him to curl up behind his seat at his telescope, Hajime sliding into his side on her slick feathers as he tells stories about squirrels packing nuts and enormous human contraptions as Blueberry’s chest rises and falls behind them and the stars circle overhead.


End file.
